The Bodyguard Job
by bridgetlynn
Summary: Noah Puckerman is used to being noticed; but when he begins to get the wrong kind of attention his team gets the least likely bodyguard possible. Now he has to convince the world that she's his girlfriend without falling for her in the process. Future AU
1. Part One

**Disclaimer:** Ryan Murphy & Co. own everything. I own nothing...literally. No money is being made, etc. etc.

**Prompt:** Puck is a celebrity with a stalker. Rachel is his unlikely bodyguard. - PuckRachel Drabble Meme Prompt on LJ by shaesweetie

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><p>"Damnit Noah you're being unreasonable!"<p>

"You're not hiring me a bodyguard Santana and that's final," he snapped back, continuing the argument that had been going on for the last week. "I've got a black belt in karate and I'm trained in judo and jujitsu."

"You've also got a psychopath that we know nothing about stalking you. LAPD has no information on them other then the fact that they know where your house is due to the increasingly graphic messages and dead animals that have been arriving for the last two months," she replied, giving him the glare that he was fairly certain was supposed to convey how stupid she thought he was. "I don't give a shit if you are considered the next Steven Segal, only ya know, with actual acting ability."

"Do you know what it would do to my image if I had a body guard following me around? It'll look like I can't take care of myself."

"There won't be a whole lot to take care of if you're dead now will there," Santana continued, "We all agree on this Noah."

Noah groaned and looked around to the faces at the table in the conference room at Creative Arts Agency that his team had taken over for the afternoon. Santana Lopez, his agent and the first person who had taken a chance on him when he was twenty-two, new to LA from Ohio and just out of college with only a few university theatre credits on his resume. The last ten years the two of them had essentially built each other's careers as both had been brand new to the business at the time. Finn Hudson, his oldest friend and now publicist had been hired two years later after Noah's first major movie roll, it had only been a co-starring billing but his looks and talent had garnered a buzz and almost overnight he was the paparazzi's new golden boy. Blaine Anderson, Santana's number two at the agency, Noah's first real friend in LA (resulting in landing Blaine his job) and had been dating his stylist for the last two years. Finally, Kurt Hummel, another friend from Ohio, Finn's step-brother and if you asked him, "the person who single handedly keeps you off Melissa River's radar during award's season since you keep asking why you can't wear jeans to the Oscars."

"I'm not going to get killed," was all he could think to reply to the four people that were staring at him with increasingly impatient expressions.

"Puck just shut up," Kurt finally snapped, shocking the table because until that point it had only been Santana talking. "Listen up and listen good 'cause I'm only going to say this once. You are one of my best friends and I consider you family, listen to the people who you pay to make your life easier and agree to get a fucking bodyguard."

Noah blinked in shock, not at the words (he had known Kurt since he was a kid and had considered him a friend for just about sixteen years) but at the tone. Kurt never told him what to do, unless it had to do with clothing, and in fact more often then not tended to agree with him over the others. The stylist claimed it was because they were both "artists" and "you're my boyfriend's best friend I have to agree with you for the sake of my sex life".

He knew when Kurt snapped that he had lost his argument and glared at the smug looks being passed around the table by the others. Shaking his head in annoyance he finally exhaled and muttered, "Fine."

"Thank God," Finn whispered and Noah immediately felt bad, his friend had been worried the last few months and Noah had just brushed it off. He hadn't been thinking about how this might be effecting the closest people he had to family in California. With his Mom still in Ohio and his sister in Chicago it had been easy to ignore the threat against him. "So, how are we going to do this?"

"I've got an idea," Blaine finally spoke up. "Noah doesn't want this to effect his image and quite frankly we don't want the stalker to get more dangerous. If the stalker thinks he's still accessible, as it were, then they might step things up. As of right now it's just an obsession, creepy letters detailing how they belong together, so on and so forth."

"You're forgetting about the dead dog on the doorstep," Kurt muttered, looking nauseous. "I'm still disturbed that they got passed the gate on your property," he added, thinking of the house in the Hollywood Hills Noah owned that everyone thought was an unknown location.

"I'm not forgetting that," Blaine replied. "But my point was, what if no one knows you have a bodyguard?"

"And how are they not going to know that?" Santana questioned, looking confused as she glanced up from the list of agency's she had been shoving in Noah's face for over a week.

"Athena Academy," Blaine responded, pushing a sheet of paper across the table to Santana. "Female bodyguards."

"Female?" four voices answered his statement in varying degrees of confusion.

"Yes. I made a call already. I explained the situation and my idea. They agreed with me and even said they had someone specific in mind."

"Okay?" Finn prompted. "What's your idea?"

"Noah Puckerman, serial dater, finally meets a girl who can hold his attention longer then a week."

Noah stared back at Blaine for a few seconds before almost doubling over in laughter; he only laughed harder at the scowl on his friends face. He finally calmed down and explained the reasoning behind his humor, "This is a bodyguard Blaine. Do you really think anyone would believe I'd date a chick that looks like that?"

"Yes," Blaine replied simply and shot him the same smirk Noah himself was known for. "Trust me on this."

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><p>Two days later Noah once again found himself sitting in the conference room with his team, only this time they were waiting on another person to join them and Noah had a different ball of dread in his stomach. He was an actor, a damn good one too, but even he didn't know how to be convincing over the fact that he was dating a woman who was a bodyguard. The closest he had ever come was in High School when this chick Lauren something-or-other from the wrestling team had been scarily obsessed with him for two years. He had taken her out once in the beginning of junior year for what he planned as being a horrible date, hoping that she'd decide he was an asshole, and all it had done was make her like him more. Ironically, it hadn't been until three months later when he was forced to participate in the spring play that she had backed off and decided he was a "loser". He'd never been more thankful for getting caught throwing a geek in a dumpster then that year since it resulted in him finding his future profession. That was also the same year that he began to get friendly with Kurt due to the play, resulting in Finn and Kurt meeting on more civil terms, resulting in their parents getting married.<p>

"Okay, so her name is Rachel Adler," Blaine's voice brought Noah back into the discussion that was going on around him. He watched as his friend began to rattle off information from the file open in front of him, "She's also thirty-two. Joined the Department of the Treasury right after finishing her degree in psychology at Georgetown. Two years later she had gained a Masters in Psych, also from Georgetown and was recruited to the Secret Service. Three years on the first daughter's detail, two on the first lady's and then three on the President."

"Wait, I'm going to be protected by someone who was trained to take a bullet for the President of the United States? Isn't that a little extreme?"

"She's not with the Service anymore," Blaine continued as though Noah hadn't spoken. "Well, not really anyway. She was shot in that assassination attempt last year, so not only is she trained to do it but she has done it. She's since taken a leave of absence. She wants to finish her Ph.D. in criminal psychology and is cleared to work in the private sector while she does that. Any questions?"

"Yea," Noah replied. "Is she hot?"

"I don't know Mr. Puckerman, you tell me," a female voice floated from the doorway and Noah, along with everyone else, turned toward the doorway. When he saw the figure standing there his jaw dropped. "Well, do I pass muster?" she questioned, her voice taking on an amused tone as if she knew exactly how much she passed.

"Holy shit," Santana muttered. "Do you want a job? Fuck Puckerman...I could get you top billing in the next romantic comedy. Wait, can you act?"

"I guess that means I'm hot," was Rachel's only response, even as her eyes never left his.

"Yea, little bit," he agreed quickly, smirking and cursing himself internally for letting her see his shock. "So babe how're we going to do this?"

When he saw her slight eye roll at, he assumed, the use of 'babe' instead of her name he smirked even more. The tiny brunette crossed the room and pulled out the empty chair next to him before sitting down and leaning back in the chair, allowing him to observe her up close.

She was wearing jeans, a long sleeved v-necked shirt, brown boots and a brown leather jacket. He was more then a little shocked, and turned on, to realize as she shifted in the chair that under her jacket was a shoulder holster. Long brown hair was pulled up in a pony tail, the only jewelry she was wearing was a star of david necklace and he could tell she had just a minimal amount of make-up on. He knew in that instant that he was fucked and had to remind himself that he couldn't actually date the woman sitting next to him; even if she did look like a cross between his perfect woman and Lara Croft. And considering he had been in the newest Lara Croft movie a few years earlier he would know. Also, she looked so damned familiar that it was almost overshadowing her extreme hotness.

"Aren't you kind of tiny?" Finn questioned, earning an eye roll from both Rachel and Noah.

The woman was barely over five feet tall, but being highly trained in martial arts himself he could tell she was dangerous just by how she had moved across the room. One thing his training had taught him since he began with karate at seven was that size didn't matter in martial arts. So her stature didn't phase him one instant, like it appeared to have the others.

"Dude, how long have you known me? My sister in her size and has kicked your ass. You should know her height doesn't matter."

"And three days ago you didn't even want a bodyguard," Kurt piped in. "How cute."

"Yea well," Noah responded. "She's hot."

"Eloquent," Blaine interjected with a laugh. "Anyway, Ms. Adler, I believe Noah had a good question. How are we going to do this?"

He watched as Rachel nodded and reached into the bag she had brought with her, pulling out a file and setting it on the table. She shuffled through the papers and only a single glance told him it was a file on his situation, as he could see copies of the letters he received.

"I looked through what I was given and I think you were right to hire a bodyguard. This person believes they essentially own Mr. Puckerman and seeks to fully posesess him. Based on the word choice in the letter I believe it's a woman; which makes hiring me and having me pose as Mr. Puckerman's girlfriend is an ideal situation. It'll throw the stalker off kilter, all they've had to deal with so far is casual dating. A steady girlfriend will hopefully cause them to be thrown off enough to make a mistake. I've already spoken to the lead detective and have given my recommendations on what they should be looking into."

"And, how do you know all this?" Kurt questioned, looking more then a little confused.

"Mr. Anderson has my profile. I'm not just an attractive blunt object Mr. Hummel. I'm ABD in Criminal Psychology. After this job is finished I just have to teach for a year and defend my dissertation."

"We didn't introduce ourselves," Kurt replied, looking suspicious. "How do we know you aren't the stalker?"

Noah almost laughed when one perfectly manicured eyebrow rose and the woman sitting next to him smirked and responded, "Simple Mr. Hummel. It's my job to know these things. I take my job very, very seriously."

Noah watched as one by one everyone else at the table began to relax slightly. They had all been getting tenser and tenser as the last two months went on and the stalker seemingly got closer and with the words of one tiny little (and blatantly dangerous) brunette they seemed to have it lifted off of them. They could now get back to their actual jobs and leave the stalker to his new "girl" and the LAPD.

He decided he'd help them out, "So baby, let's blow this joint, go be seen in public making goo-goo eyes at each other and work out a story."

"Alright," she agreed with a shrug. "As for our story? That's an easy one."

"It is?"

"Wow," Rachel whispered and Noah became even more confused because the brunette actually looked honestly surprised for the first time since she had arrived. She finally shook her head slightly and looked up and him and spoke, "Yes, if anyone asks we're childhood friends who have reconnected."

"Why would you say that?" Santana asked, interjecting herself into the conversation. "Wouldn't that get more confusing since you should know things about each other?"

"Well," Rachel replied. "It's the truth."

And with that statement it all hit him like a ton of bricks, "Holy shit. Rachel Berry."

Standing in front of him was a girl he hadn't seen since the eighth grade when her parents moved away from Lima. She had always gone to a nearby private school, but their parents had been friends from Temple and basically from the second he hit puberty his mother had been on his back for him to date Rachel.

"Got it in one," she responded, chuckling. "I'm guessing the last name threw you off?"

That comment had him quickly clocking her left hand, but not only was there no wedding band but there was no tan line from a wedding band either. Not to mention, he was fairly certain married women didn't pretend to be people's girlfriends. Therefore, instead of commenting on the last name issue, he asked the only other question that was cycling through his mind at that moment, "What the hell happened to Broadway?"

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><p><strong>AN:** I've outlined this. It's for the drabble meme. It'll only be (max) five parts. There will be much more explanation as to how things are different in this AU as it goes through each part. It's like the butterfly effect - Rachel not going to McKinley, Santana not being raised in Lima, etc...seemingly little changes can do a whole lot.


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer:** See Part One. And...editing this at 4:30am might not have been the brightest decision ever but I wanted it posted before the season premiere in case whatever happens in the first episode pisses me off too much to write for a few days.

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><p>Fifteen minutes later Noah found himself sitting across from Rachel at the Starbucks down the street from CAA's office building, studying his coffee cup and wondering what she was seeing that he wasn't. Since the moment they walked out of the office building Rachel had appeared completely relaxed as she strolled along next to him; but he had noticed that her eyes seemed to take in every single person they passed as if she was cataloging them in her mind quickly before moving onto the next one.<p>

Now he was just waiting for her attention to be fully on him again; because she was doing the same thing she had been on the street only far more intensely now that they were stationary at a table. It was more then a little disconcerting for the actor; mostly, since to anyone looking at them he could tell it would look like they were on an awkward first date and searching for a conversation topic.

He ignored the internal voice that told him they were doing exactly that.

"Sooo," he finally prompted when she met his eyes again. "Tell me what's up with you. Beyond the glaringly obvious last name difference; it has been quite a few years."

He smirked when she blushed slightly and waited until she answered. Unfortunately it wasn't full of babbling, halfway defensive answers, as he was expecting and he had to remind himself that he wasn't sitting across from a thirteen year old girl who was sort of a friend by default due to their parents friendship. He was sitting across from a thirty-two year old woman who was obviously very different.

"It's a really long story and I don't want to get into it in public," she started and then lowered her voice. "The walls have ears and since we don't know who is stalking you I'd prefer any information that might imply my profession to not be overheard. The idea is that I'm your girlfriend, not your bodyguard. Remember? Those were your stipulations from what Mr. Anderson told me."

"First off, you should probably call him Blaine if you're my girl," Noah responded with a slight laugh. "Also, maybe cool down the professionalism a bit?"

He watched her exhale and blinked as a transformation suddenly came over her; gone was the cool, slightly standoffish, posture and in it's place was a relaxed, smiling woman who was giving him exactly what he had mentioned in the office. Apparently Rachel had some really impressive googly eyes. If he didn't know for a fact that this was the first time they had seen each other in years he'd swear he was sitting across from a woman who was completely smitten with him.

"Geez, maybe San was right. She should represent you," he muttered and laughed when she smirked back at him.

"I'm very talented," she replied simply. "The key to my job has almost always been the ability to observe, adapt, blend in and play a role if necessary. Right now I'm your old friend from Ohio that you're dating exclusively. Call it the best application of both my strongest interests."

"Which are?"

"Acting and psychology," she responded. "But seriously, enough about me while we're here. Tell me how Noah Puckerman went from a preteen mohawked jock in Lima, Ohio to an Oscar nominated actor in Hollywood. 'Cause, I have to admit Noah, I would have never expected thirteen year old you to turn into this."

"Feeling's mutual babe," he joked back, raising an eyebrow. If he was being honest he'd almost have expected them to switch professions if they were going by their early teenaged personalities. "Honestly though?" he continued. "It really wasn't anything too insane; the short of it is that I got in trouble one day during my Junior Year of High School and our principal decided that I should be forced to work on the spring musical as punishment. I found out pretty quickly that I liked the acting part."

"Oh please Noah. You used to bitch at me constantly about blabbering on all about Broadway and how I was going to be a star one day. There has got to be more to the story then what you're telling me. Besides, I'm supposed to know all this as your loving girlfriend. So channel that writer you played a few years ago and make with the exposition."

Noah blinked at her comment and before he explained he had to ask one question, "You saw that? It didn't even get picked up for distribution."

The movie she was referring to was an independent thriller he had starred in two years earlier at minimum SAG pay scale as a favor to a friend from college who had basically no budget to work with (he would have worked for free if it wouldn't have caused issues with the union). It had been shown at a few festivals and had been a favorite at Sundance but was a little too controversial for any major distributors to pick it up for a wide release. Since then his performance as a schizophrenic horror writer who didn't realize he was acting out the scenes he wrote was one of his favorites (one of the critics favorites too) but wasn't exactly easy to come by even if it was on DVD.

"I've seen everything you've been in Noah," she admitted. "Or at least everything on film. First thing I saw was "Morning Skies", I didn't know you were in it and I wasn't sure at first it was you; then when I saw the credits and saw your name I was _so_ proud of you. So I made a point to try and support you anyway I could. And that was by making sure I saw all your performances. You're really very talented."

"Wow," he whispered and felt himself smiling. The fact that Rachel Berry, who once told him she'd be the toast of Broadway, was telling him he was talented and that she was proud of him, somehow felt better then the four Oscar nominations he'd received over the last few years. "Morning Skies was my first real film work. Or at least the first thing I was recognizable for," he explained. "I wasn't sure what kind of acting I wanted to do yet; but I wasn't about to say no to anything directed by Martin Scorsese. Even if I did get blown to hell in the first forty minutes; but that's a Civil War movie for you. Everyone gets blown to hell eventually."

"It was a really good film," Rachel agreed. "Not surprisingly, as you said - Scorsese was directing. I actually saw it with the first daughter at the time," she added quietly. "She had quite the crush on you."

Noah laughed at that comment and couldn't help joking back, "Why didn't you tell her you could have gotten in touch with me? I woulda signed something. Hell, back then I would have signed ten somethings for any type of recognition."

"Oh fuck no," Rachel immediately replied. "That kid was the biggest brat I've ever met." That comment had him choking on his coffee to keep from cracking up completely and drawing too much attention to them; people were generally apathetic to celebrities in Los Angeles, but only to an extent. Drawing too much attention to yourself usually means you'll get bothered by fans. "But we're off track again. How'd you go from the Noah Puckerman I knew to Corporal John Kepper in Morning Skies? Tell me about you."

"Okay, here goes," Noah began and decided to do what she told him. Make with the exposition. "I went to McKinley, obviously. Joined football, played wide receiver and behaved exactly as everyone expected I should. I'm not exactly proud of it now or anything but I'll admit, I was an asshole. I bullied the geeks and slacked off in school 'cause as long as I had that C+ average to play football it was enough. I slept around with cheerleaders and the cougars in town and was generally just waiting to get out of High School. I never really _wanted_ more and since no one _expected_ more from me I didn't try for more. Does that make sense?"

"Completely," Rachel replied nodding. "And that's not just my psych degree talking," she added. "Remember what I was like back then? Everyone expected me to be that way so I never had a reason to change it."

He chuckled and nodded before continuing, "Well, you met Finn at the office. He and I have been best friends since we were about six and to be honest, some days, looking back on it I have no idea why. He should have dropped me like a bad habit when we were kids 'cause I don't think I ever gave a real shit about him until I didn't have him around anymore," he mumbled the last part and debated explaining since it was still a painful memory that only reinforced how stupid he had been as a teenager.

"I'm confused," Rachel prompted, tilting her head slightly as though examining a puzzle.

He waited a few beats and finally muttered, "Fuck it. Alright, so, back then I was really jealous of Finn. He was the QB and he was everyone's stereotypical midwestern golden boy. I never understood why; he was always with me when I did shit to the so-called losers, but since he just stood around and looked dopey no one ever blamed him for it. It's not even like he tried to stop me, but apathy was apparently forgivable. So, I started letting this bitterness grow and instead of changing my own behavior I decided that the reason Finn was considered supposedly perfect was because of his girlfriend. He was one half of McKinley's golden couple; even though we were only Sophomores. Quinn Fabray, the beautiful blonde, Christian, head cheerleader," he trailed off and rolled his eyes at the memories as he took a sip of his coffee and then checked Rachel's expression. It was obvious she taking in everything he was saying, though her eyes were still trailing around the room as people moved in and out of the coffee shop.

"I think I remember her," Rachel commented, surprising him. "She lived near my house. She was kind of a bitch."

"Understatement," Noah responded. "Unfortunately, I found that out the hard way. We were at a party that Finn couldn't go to and we had each had a few drinks so I got this brilliant idea to kiss the chastity queen. Got one hell of a slap for it too."

Rachel giggled as he shook his head quickly, remembering the force which with Quinn had hit him. At the time it had pissed him off; hindsight being what it was he was never more thankful to be hit in his life.

"What happened then?" she asked him when Noah had fallen silent for a few beats, arranging his thoughts.

"Oh, that's when picture perfect Quinn Fabray showed her true colors," he admitted. "The next Monday I got to school and Finn basically beat the hell out of me for making a move on his girlfriend. Took damn near a full year to get him to talk to me again and most of Junior Year to get us back to where we had been."

"Ouch," Rachel muttered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was my dick move. I've got mixed feelings on the subject now. On one hand, I'm very thankful in the long run that she _didn't_ go for it 'cause then I'd have been stuck with her for a while, possibly a whole month, and probably never would have gotten my friendship with Finn back. On the other hand, I wish she had because then Finn wouldn't have been stuck with her until halfway through our Freshmen Year of college."

"They dated_ that _long?"

"Finn's very...trusting."

"How'd they break up?"

"She got expelled from her super Christian college down in Texas when she got caught having sex with some guy."

"They expelled her from college for having sex?" the incredulous tone in Rachel's voice was unmistakable.

"Yea," he replied. "Apparently it is immoral and deviant behavior in those circles."

"Damn."

"Uh-huh; I'd have been burned at the damn stake."

"Me too," Rachel admitted, prompting a laugh from both of them.

"Oh! Best parts of the whole Quinn-drama? The guy in Texas knocked her up, 'cause apparently she was from the school of thought that you can't get pregnant your first time and no one had ever taught her about birth control in any form. Even better? Bitch hated me in high school; three years ago she started emailing Finn asking him for my contact information. It's like suddenly I'm famous and she wants to pretend like we were friends."

This comment had Rachel's head shooting up and Noah furrowed his brow in confusion, waiting for whatever had caught her attention, "I need her contact info."

"Whyyy?" he trailed out. "We don't _want _to talk to that psycho-bitch."

"You're being stalked by a female Noah," she hissed.

"Oh fuck no. It's not Quinn. Believe me. We checked that shit out immediately. She's still in Lima, disappointingly single and the cheerleading coach."

"Oh," Rachel muttered. "Well, that woulda been too easy anyway."

"Yea. So what else do you want to know?"

"Let's see," she mumbled, tapping her lips with her pointer finger as she smirked. "Oh, I know. How'd you become me?"

"I told you. I got in trouble for tossing a geek into a dumpster and had to help out with the spring production during Junior Year."

"Helping out with the spring production doesn't necessarily lead to four Oscar nods Noah," Rachel replied, whining slightly and kicked him lightly under the table before glaring at his laughter. "Stop teasing me."

"Alright, alright," he shot back, holding his hands up as if to placate her. "So, I was supposed to just be manual labor and one day I got there early 'cause I skipped last period to fuck around with my guitar since the acoustics in the auditorium were pretty fucking good for a shitty public high school. I was just fiddling around with a song I was writing and started singing the melody over it to see how it tied together and our creepy as fuck director overheard me. Next thing I know he's got me reading lines opposite the female lead. The next day I found out that the male lead had been bumped back to understudy and my weekday afternoons and Saturday mornings belonged to him and McKinley High School's production of High School Musical. I tried to get out of it but Mr. Ryerson convinced Principal Figgins that it'd keep me too busy to cause trouble at school; so Figgins told me he'd use my participation as some overall extra credit which would put my average in the B range. So I was stuck with Ryerson for the next semester."

"Huh," Rachel replied, looking surprised. "That was lucky."

"No shit," Noah joked back. "Even if I had to dance around and sing Disney songs for five months all for a four show production."

"But you found out what you wanted to do for the rest of your life."

"Truth."

"So, why was he creepy?"

"Huh?"

"You said your director was creepy as fuck and then stressed that you were stuck with Ryerson for the semester, not stuck with the musical."

"Oh! Yea, that. Let's just say that the worst kept secret in Lima was that Sandy Ryerson liked teenage boys; except no one had any proof. I just figured he thought I was hot and wanted to stare at my ass. Kurt finally convinced me around March that I, quote, far from sucked."

"Kurt? Oh, your stylist."

"Yea, he's also Finn's step-brother. Kurt and I started hanging out by default since he was playing Ryan in the show and it was pretty obvious early on that we were the only ones in the cast that could really do more then just barely carry a tune. Since Kurt and I were stuck with each other, Finn and Kurt started hanging out when Finn would come over to make fun of me running my lines. It was weird and I'm still not clear on the details but the next thing I know it's the middle of the summer before Senior Year and Burt and Carole are getting married."

"You realize this sounds like a bad sitcom right?"

"You're the one who wanted to hear what you missed out on when you moved."

"I have a feeling I missed out on dumpster trips."

"Hey! I never would have thrown a chick into a dumpster."

"That's good to hear," Rachel admitted, smiling across the table at him and sending those googly eyes again.

"I just would have slushied you," he finished with a purely evil smirk that had her flipping him off. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. The eyes of puppy love are creepy."

"I can't help it," she responded dryly. "You're just so attractive."

He sent her his flirtiest wink and then thought about what high school with Rachel would have been like and honestly couldn't even begin to picture it, except for one thing, "Ya know, I bet you would have been following Finn around with those puppy eyes. I remember what you were like and that kid was the total stereotypical prince charming wrapped in a football uniform. Did you chase the most popular boy around at your High School?"

"Ugh," Rachel groaned. "Believe me, I got the sunshine and rainbows blinders off really fast in DC. Lima's not exactly the boondocks but compared to the District it was Mayberry. Even a private school in DC wisens you up really quickly."

"I bet," he agreed, thinking of even just being twenty-two and moving to a city like LA, even after living in Columbus for four years.

"Besides, I think you're wrong."

"About what?"

"My apparent theoretical high school crush on Finn."

"Oh?"

"Yep; I'd have probably had a thing for you. Though judging by your explanation of your behavior I'd have covered it up with extreme loathing."

"Nah, babe. You would have _hated _me. At least until I had to play opposite you since you know you'd be all over the leading lady parts; then I'd have gotten you to drop your panties sooooo fast."

"Ha. Ha," she muttered and then laughed when he winked again. "You're an ass."

"Not really," he assured quickly. "But I bet if anyone is watching us and not listening they're deciding that we're playfully flirting and teasing. See Rachel, you're not the only one who can observe, adapt and act accordingly."

"Touche Mr. Puckerman."

The two smiled at each other for a few seconds before Noah cleared his throat and tried to ignore the tightening in his stomach as she stared back at him. He finally just focused on the training that had led him to be a household name and shrugged flippantly, "It's not like it's that hard to flirt with you. You're fucking gorgeous."

"Why thank you ever so much."

"So what about you?" he asked, immediately changing the subject before he really started flirting with the woman wearing a gun.

"Nuh-uh. We're only up to Junior Year."

"What are you writing an article?" he questioned, only half joking. Only people who had actually been present during the events he was talking about knew this much and if he didn't know she had been tasked to protect leaders of government at one point he'd be nervous that TMZ was going to get some exclusive expose on him.

Noah had worked far too hard over the years to keep his image as uncontroversial as possible; as far as the general public was concerned he was a nice, talented, if somewhat gruff personality who just happened to date a lot. None of the women he dated ever talked to the press, since he tried to stick to somewhat classy women with actual careers these days, and he made sure to stay away from actresses so he avoided any potential issues on future sets. It was this tight lipped control over his personal life (and how grateful was he that the Twitter craze had died down before he really got famous) that made the trashier paparazzi scrounge for any tiny detail they could get.

"Not at all. Please don't be worried about that Noah," Rachel responded looking concerned. "I promise, anything you tell me is for my own information so I can suss out what this stalker is potentially working with."

"Alright, just so you know though, the rest of it is mostly boring. Senior Year was a little shaken up cause I quit football but that's really the extent of it."

"_You_ quit _football_? You've played since pee-wee league."

"Yea, well, we sucked. Honestly, we were horrendous. Tanaka's coaching was _never_ going to take that team anywhere and since it wasn't going to help me out with a potential college scholarship I decided I needed to get my grades up legitimately and focus on the Drama Club. Kurt and his friends were a big help with that actually."

"Hmmm?"

"Well, his friend Artie started tutoring me towards the end of Junior Year and so we picked it up again our Senior Year. He was a cool kid; he played guitar and piano with the Jazz Band and the orchestra so the last few months of Junior Year he was on lockdown in the auditorium with me and Kurt too. Then there was Tina, she was this ridiculously shy girl who had a really, really nice voice but if you tried to put her on a stage I think she'd have a heart attack. Instead she ran the set design team."

"So she was on lock down with you guys as well?"

"Yup. The four of us pretty much bonded over the sheer stupidity of everyone else by the end of Junior Year. Well, that and the fact that Mr. Ryerson spent the rest of high school stalking us."

"I don't like that word right now Noah."

"Sorry Rach," he muttered. "I was joking about the stalking thing; well, sort of. Ryerson also ran the Glee Club at McKinley and he had conned seven students to join it by that point. They needed twelve to compete so Ryerson was convinced that if he could get the four of us involved then tracking down one more member wouldn't be a problem."

"You were in Glee Club too?"

"Didn't you hear me say trying to convince us? The Glee Club was horrible. Like, legitimately bad. I'm not just talking about social suicide, hell I was in Drama. I'm talking how they sounded. Every single one of those seven was convinced that they should be the lead, so trying to get them to sing together and harmonize was like trying to squeeze blood from a rock. Mercedes was the worst of the lot. She was really good friends with Kurt, Tina and Artie until we started working on High School Musical. She kept insisting she wasn't an actress; she was a singer. Almost like it was beneath her or something," he explained, shrugging and looking annoyed at the thought considering how he now made his living. "Then she was pissed at them for being friends with me. _That_ part I_ kind _of understood; though for the most part I left Tina alone even before I really got to know her. Mostly 'cause she sort of worked her ass of to blend into the woodwork, as much as a goth kid can blend at least."

Rachel laughed at the explanation and asked, "Are you talking about Tina Cohen-Chang?"

"Yea, you know her?"

"Noah! She went to Temple with us for years. Her Mom's Jewish."

"Huh; I guess she did blend," he muttered, thinking back to their childhood before he was old enough for his Mom to stop forcing him to go to Temple weekly.

"I guess," Rachel agreed laughing lightly. "So, no Glee Club?"

"No Glee Club," he repeated shaking his head. "I mean, it could have been fun if they had any hope in hell of getting their shit together but the four of us went to one practice at the beginning of Senior Year and practically feared the choir room after that. I mean, I didn't blow off music or anything, but it was all out of school. Mostly Artie and I just fucked around with our guitars when we hung out and we'd occasionally get Tina to sing with us. Kurt you couldn't shut up, he needed no encouragement when I was playing. Though he did tend to complain about song choice and tried to get me to learn more then one musical score. Once in a blue moon Finn would play drums if we were all at him and Kurt's house hanging out; but usually if I was over there it was just to see Finn 'cause he was a little freaked out by my new friends and he was less then thrilled with the whole football thing."

"Awe you had your own little band!" she giggled through the words; obviously choosing to ignore the slightly bitter tone he had taken as he spoke of his best friend's reaction to his choices. It was all well past water under the bridge this many years later but sometimes those less then happy years of his childhood still stung.

"Hush woman! We had _badass jam sessions_."

"Right so sorry; badass jam sessions. I'll remember for future reference."

"Anyone ever told you that you've gotten more sarcastic in your old age."

"Anyone ever tell you it's rude to call a woman old?" she asked in response and adjusted her jacket.

Noah paled at the words and he quickly changed the subject rather then backpeddalling, "So yea anyway, where was I? Right. Senior Year. I didn't really want to do another musical; especially since Ryerson wanted to do High School Musical 2. Even Kurt hated that idea; but Kurt was also lobbying for Cabaret with him as Sally Bowles."

"Oh God."

"Exactly," Noah replied, snorting slightly. "He wanted me to play The Emcee. I looked that shit up at the time and shut it down quick. Instead I found the production I really wanted to do that fall. Artie and Tina were easy enough to convince. Kurt was more difficult but once I promised him the second lead he was good. Once I got him on board the four of us basically blitz attacked the rest of the Drama Club and somehow, by the grace of God, got the school to agree to a drama instead of a musical without them knowing which play it was."

"Oh geez Noah. What'd you do?" Rachel questioned and he grinned when he realized she was hanging off his every word. He knew they paid him big money for a reason; he's badass at drama.

"Inherit the Wind**. Too bad Ryerson flipped out and walked since he refused to 'not partake in a musical endeavor.' We weren't that broken up until we realized we needed a faculty adviser. Thankfully our Spanish teacher's personal life was up shit's creek and he had a lot of free time and a bit of an over zealous theatre bug himself. The man didn't have a clue about what he was doing but we let him pretend to be the director while Artie really took care of everything," Noah continued explaining, smirking as he thought of Mr. Schuester's bumbling attempts at team building and group bonding.

The man had never understood that not one member of McKinley High's Drama Club cared that most of them hated each other outside of the auditorium; inside of it they tolerated each other's presence and worked together so they, personally, didn't look like idiots come opening night. Noah still laughed whenever he remembered Kurt explaining to Schue that they were theatre geeks and were more likely to bash each other's knees in over a role then actually make nice off of the stage. But for the whole year Schue kept calling them a "family" and got teary eyed until they finally agreed so that they could move onto the next scene. Tina had been convinced that it was because of his train wreck of a marriage to the psycho from Sheets N' Things who had pretended to be pregnant right up until her ninth month and then had no baby to show for it.

Now that had been one _massive_ scandal in Lima once it made the gossip rounds.

"So yea, we did Inherit the Wind and it went off pretty damn well. Got my first review in the local paper for it too," he joked and wiggled his eyebrows with a fake sigh which turned into a snicker when Rachel half glared at him as he channeled her at thirteen. "Which was impressive considering it was a play put on by high school students with a director who had no clue what he was doing. Made worse by the fact that it was still slightly controversial subject matter considering we were in Ohio and were basically spitting distance from the Bible Belt."

"Did you have problems?"

"Well, not _really_. Remember what I said about Quinn and the birth control thing?"

"Yea?"

"McKinley taught abstinence only sex ed and while we did learn evolution in science being that it was a public school; there were a lot of kids who's parents were uncomfortable with that idea. So, it just made people a little critical. No one actually did anything."

"Oh, well that's good at least."

"Yea, not that I cared. I was playing Matthew Harrison Brady and no one was going to stop that production as far as I was concerned since I got to play a part that had also been played by George C. Scott and Charles Durning at one point."

"Very true," Rachel mumbled and looked slightly wistful, which left Noah smirking. She still had the bug; he didn't know what had changed to lead her down the path she had pursued in her life but the bug was still there. Which was good, because he didn't think he could remotely relate to her if she didn't still care about all the insanity she had rattled off at one point in her life that had ironically become his. When he was younger he never thought he'd understand what she meant about the freedom of pretending to be someone you aren't and living another life. He couldn't imagine not doing that now.

"You okay?" he decided to ask when the wistful expression didn't leave her face.

"Yea, I am."

"You looked lost for a second there."

"Not lost. Maybe a teensy bit envious; but not lost. The envy doesn't have anything to do with your job though. It's more to do with the fact that you did all that with friends. I never really had friends to work on plays with."

"So you _did_ do the theatre thing?"

"Not past high school," she clarified. "But that's part of the long story for not here."

"Tease."

"Not. At. All," she joked back and winked at him with a leer, grinning when he glared back and shifted in his seat. "Oh I'm sorry, I thought we were doing the whole blatant flirting thing for the benefit of the people sitting around us."

"I hate you a little bit right now," Noah grumbled, trying to ignore the tightening in his pants from her little manipulation. He was usually better at this game and decided he was thrown off since he wasn't allowed to legitimately flirt or try to seduce her. He remained quiet, draining the last of his coffee before glancing around and then groaning. "Fucking vultures."

"Huh?"

"Paps outside," he explained with a head nod and watched Rachel turn behind her towards the glass windows to see camera flashes going off, all of which were pointed in their direction. "Probably about four of them," he added, studying the small grouping of people outside staring right at him through the window. "Alright time to give them a show," he added under his breath and reached across the table to intertwine their fingers. "Just roll with it."

"Rolling," she agreed, squeezing his hand and leaning forward slightly while propping her chin up on her free hand. "You were saying?" she added, giggling slightly and once again looking all dopey and smitten. It was almost nauseating because he suddenly realized that all the women he dates tend to look like that; and there's a damn good reason he's never stayed with them longer then a few months. He also knew it would convince the photographers very quickly for that very same reason.

"The rest of senior year was almost an issue; but we ironed it out fairly quickly. I had gotten into OSU and a few other schools but I knew OSU was my best bet 'cause of in-state tuition. The draw back was going to be making sure I got a spot in the Theatre Department. There's always an audition of course; but I knew the best way to get in would be to get someone to come see me in our spring production. Since Kurt had gotten into FIT he wanted to run the costume department, instead of acting, and build up his portfolio and with that in mind he convinced me that the best bet for both of us was showing versatility so we manipulated the Club to voting on doing Grease."

"Ahhh," Rachel interjected. "Drama, music and comedy all in one. Nice."

"Now you talk?"

"Well, I figured we're being photographed and possibly filmed. An even exchange looks better then you just talking at me," was the explanation he received, right along with her foot lightly moving up and down his calf.

"Subtle, very subtle," he muttered, suppressing a shiver. He was right earlier in the office; he was fucked. "So yea, Grease. The problem was Schue."

"Why was your teacher a problem? Did he know even less about directing musical numbers?"

"Actually, no. The man went from incredibly bumbling idiot trying to make nice with his students to a dictator. Suddenly he knew everything and we were just his pawns to be pushed around. I had begged Finn and our friends Mike, Sam, and this kid Dave Karofsky who wasn't exactly our friend but could actually passably sing, to play the T-Bird's since there weren't any guys in the Drama Club who could pull it off convincingly and all three of them could sing well. Or at least, Finn and Sam could sing well and Mike and Dave could passably carry a tune."

"Lemme guess, Mike and Dave played Sonny and Roger?"

"Sort of. No solos. They just had to harmonize with us. Finn was playing Kenickie and Sam was supposed to play Doody."

"Supposed to?"

"Yea, we wound up doing the play by using the film script and songbook because Brittany, who was playing Sandy, was a really sweet girl but she couldn't learn her lines or what she was supposed to do unless she watched the film a few dozen times. So the guys wound up playing basically the same roles; but with their movie counterpart's names. Less singing for Sam off that script, but he didn't care that much."

"The movie's fun too, but, if she had a problem with it, why get involved in the first place?"

"She's a dancer and she had a really nice voice; nothing spectacular but nice. She was Mike's girlfriend and she heard we were doing Grease and decided to audition so she could spend time with Mike and dance. That dragged shit onto Quinn's radar and since Quinn was basically attached at the hip to Finn she was always there; then randomly Schue wanted Quinn to play Sandy instead but I vetoed that immediately. By that point I couldn't even be in the same room as her without wanting to throw things."

"And playing opposite her would have been torture."

"Oh you have no idea," Noah muttered and shook his head in disgust. "But hey, I told her she could play Rizzo if she actually _wanted_ a part in the show. She just got pissed and stormed off after screaming at me over the very idea that she could ever relate to a slutty girl who got herself knocked up out of wedlock. Irony's great isn't it?"

"Well, you did say in an interview last year that you've been told by directors that you have an eye for casting and knowing what a role needs," Rachel responded with with a smirk that matched the one Noah was currently sporting.

"Either that or I'm fucking psychic," he replied, pulling her hand up to his mouth to kiss it and tossing the photographers outside an annoyed expression. Santana would be thrilled; now Rachel could hang around him all the time and no one would question a damn thing about it.

"So was Quinn the issue you had to iron out?"

"No; though I do think Schue wanted her in the role because he so had a hard on for her. She was basically his ex-wife from their high school days which explains so much about Quinn really if you think about it," he mused lightly, thinking back. "Anyway, the problem was that Schue also had a hard on for Finn and decided two weeks into rehearsals in February while we were still blocking that Finn was now playing Danny and I was playing Kenickie. Keep in mind, I had to beg my friends to play these parts so that I'd have a realistic looking cast come opening. I had to explain it to them in football scout terms; but they _got it_. Finn was over his whining about me and football and he totally understood that this was what I wanted and when Schue decided that shit Finn looked like the rug had been pulled out from under him. I think he took it worse then I did at first."

"What the hell did you do?" Rachel asked him with wide eyes; having been told she did theatre in high school he knew she was thinking of the brick wall you can hit when a faculty adviser makes an executive decision and won't budge on it.

"It was a bad week for Schue," Noah began explaining with a slightly bitter grin. "Finn quit the play completely and Schue spent the week telling Finn all about how he needed to play this role because it would help him go places. How Finn reminded Schue of himself. Didn't Finn want the best person to play the role. Shit like that, shit I had never heard from him despite knocking both of the previous productions I had done at that school out of the park. Finn just refused to come back unless it was as Kenickie with me as Danny. He told Mr. Schue that he didn't care about the play; he cared about his best friend getting into OSU's Theatre program. That compiled with Kurt and Tina "striking" and the rest of the stage crew striking with them and Schue pretty much lost. He made my life a living hell the rest of the time though and had the balls to tell me I had been "just passable" on closing night."

"What the fuck? Who gave that man a teaching degree?"

"That's still up for debate. Not much else to tell. Graduation. OSU, where nothing noteworthy happened and yes I'm being serious about that. I played my parts, worked my way up until Senior Year when I was eligible for leads. Graduated and moved out here."

"And Santana gave me a file on you from that point on," Rachel admitted. "Things like articles, roles you were considered for and then turned down, roles you went out for and weren't called back. All that stuff. She even has info on women you've dated longer then two or three times."

"She's psychotic," he mumbled. "Maybe she's the stalker?"

"Do you two have a personal relationship?"

"Huh? Oh. God no. No San strictly likes the ladies. She's actually engaged to Brittany. I introduced them five years ago when Britt moved here from New York to teach dance at Millennium."

"Well, then it's not Santana," Rachel agreed. The letters firmly implied an imagined love affair between the writer and Noah; this wasn't an obsession for any other reason then unhealthy attraction that had developed into a believed relationship. "Ready to go?"

"Yes please," he muttered, standing up quickly and helping Rachel from her chair. "I know it's my job to be looked at and that Blaine and Santana wanted us seeming lovey dovey so that I'd agree to this whole thing. But I really don't like it."

"I don't blame you. I feel like I've got a sniper on my back."

"Nice if slightly disturbing reference," he commented, holding open the door for Rachel and subtly inserting his body between her and the photographers. Seconds later he was frowning as she slipped around him so that_ she _was between him and the photographers. He then winced when she pinched his side hard as he again tried to maneuver them. "Hi guys," he finally greeted the paps politely and began walking back towards the office. They had agreed earlier that they would be going to coffee and then back to Noah's, Rachel following him in her rental car.

"Hey Noah!" came a chorus of voices. "Who's the girl Noah?" a single voice distinguished itself and Noah recognized a photographer from TMZ who was slightly less obnoxious then most.

"Just an old friend from Ohio," he replied with a subtle wink as he slung his arm around Rachel's shoulders loosely so he didn't move her jacket and reveal the shoulder holster to the group that was trying to close in on them. It was like sharks with blood, four photographers had become eight since he first noticed them. "She's in town for a while just to catch up."

"How good of a friend?" someone else shouted and Noah just laughed rather then responding. "That good huh? Where's she staying?"

"Around," he replied, sliding his arm down to the small of her back in a calculated move that would get her to walk quicker but would also look like he was trying to grab her ass. Every person with a camera would now think they were sleeping together; which would normally bother the private man but for the sake of his image no one would ever infer that Rachel was anything other then a potential girlfriend.

He heard her groan when they both realized the parking garage was covered as well; not that he was surprised being that this was CAA and the building constantly had celebrities in and out because of meetings with their agents. He quickly slid his hand down and grabbed Rachel's, interlocking their fingers, tugging her towards the main doors and pulling her along with him inside.

"They can't come in here. We'll go down to the garage from inside and you can follow me to my house. You've got your stuff right?"

"Yes; I came right from the airport. Blaine told you I'm staying with you?"

"Yea, unfortunately," he replied with a shrug. "He mentioned that yesterday. And it's nothing against you personally," he added before she got offended. "I just like my privacy."

"I understand Noah. And the LAPD are hopefully going to figure this out quickly so I can get out of your hair. Then you'll never have to deal with me again."

He smiled tightly back at her as they stepped into the elevator and squashed down the urge to tell her not to get too ahead of herself. Instead he went back to their light joking banter, "Just so you know, turnabouts fair play. I wanna hear everything when we get back to mine."

"So long as I won't be compromising national security you can know anything."

"Now now little girl, there are ways of making you talk."

"Noah?"

"Yes."

"I've got a gun."

"Right. Sorry."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**first off since this is 12 pages long I'm thinking this story will be longer then 5 parts - I just need to get the history/backstory out of the way first.

Secondly - Well, there's Puck's life up until that point. Everything post college has been pretty monotonous and focused on his career. He's actually very serious about his craft which is why there wasn't much to tell Rachel that Santana couldn't have compiled and handed over to her in writing. Hopefully this showed what a few subtle changes to canon early on could do to the entire history of the cast. I forgot how excruciatingly difficult ironing out the details so they make sense and fit together can be with an AU.  
>Ex: No Rachel means - Ryerson didn't get fired, so Schue didn't take over Glee Club and recruit Finn; therefore, Quinn wasn't feeling threatened in her relationship so she had no reason to sleep with Puck, so no Beth and as a result no juviebreakdown. But also since Ryerson wasn't fired, logically the Glee director would run the musical, leading to Puck's unfortunate interactions with him Junior Year and his brief glimpse as the hell that was Sandy Ryerson's Glee. Also, I sat here and wondered about Schue himself and realized that there was always the possibility that he might not have found out about Terri's pregnancy (bitch was batshit) and what would his already slightly unstable self be like after 9 months of that - cause remember, she found out she wasn't pregnant before she found out about Quinn and her sister was the one with the idea for "adopting". That family was so insane I fully believe that idea would have come up without Quinn being pregnant. And Schue's borderline creepy obsession with Finn and tendency to overlook any good on Puck's part unless it serves his own purpose is basically canon documentation and I don't see that changing with or without Rachel's presence.

Rachel's "story" will be in the next part when they're back at Puck's house. It might be a lot different then what people are expecting. At least Puck grew up in Lima/McKinley - keep in mind Rachel spent high school and college in Washington DC, she's a very differently molded person then the Rachel Berry we all known and love from the show.

******_Inherit the Wind_ is a dramatic play that debuted in 1955 and is a fictionalized account of the 1925 Scopes "Monkey" Trial, which resulted in John T. Scopes's conviction for teaching Charles Darwin's theory of evolution to a high school science class, contrary to a Tennessee state law that prohibited the teaching of evolution. It was used as a means to discuss the then-contemporary McCarthy trials.  
>The role of Matthew Harrison Brady, the prosecutor and fictional version of William Jennings Bryan, that Noah played was also portrayed by George C. Scott in the 1998 film version and Charles Durning in the 1996 Broadway revival. Coincidentally George C. Scott also played Henry Drummond (Kurt's role), the defense attorney, one of Brady's old friends and fictional version of Clarence Darrow, in the 1996 revival opposite Durning (I was lucky enough to see these two amazing actors on stage in the play).<p> 


	3. Part Three

**Disclaimer:** See Part One.

* * *

><p>Rachel followed closely behind Noah once they turned off of West Sunset Boulevard and onto North Crescent Heights Boulevard. She was a good driver, had been taught to drive in extreme situations even, but she didn't for one second believe she wouldn't get lost in the twists and turns of the Hollywood Hills. And GPS or not, if he got too far ahead of her when they got to Mulholland Drive she knew she'd never find his driveway off of the famous road.<p>

She turned a tight right when she saw his red 1958 Porsche speedster whip off the road and begin to ascend a hill and grumbled as her own rental, a 2025 Camry, made the turn no where near as neatly. She had seen him approach his car in the parking lot and when she raised an eyebrow at the bright red sports car he had only shrugged and said, "I was going to get a '55 Spyder but then Finn got all paranoid. One critic compared me to James Dean and suddenly I can't have the car I want."

A short trip up the private, turning, shrouded in bushes and trees, drive at a slow pace led to Rachel having to wait as the tall black iron gate cycled opened and left her to glance around the surrounding property with a feeling of dread. She could see the house from the road, but there was absolutely no way through that foliage and the fence itself stood almost seven feet high. She remembered what she had read about the property in the brief she had been given and not for the first time wondered how she was supposed to protect a 14,000 square foot lot on her own. According to the property report the fence ran three quarters of the property and the fourth side of it was a canyon. The fact that someone had managed to enter, even just the property lines, was highly disconcerting.

"At least they haven't gotten into the house yet," she muttered and tapped the gas to follow him through the gate and up the rest of the drive. A few yards past the gate and Rachel whistled as the trees cleared and they drove up towards the three car garage on the side of the house. The property itself wasn't what she had been expecting after seeing the gate and the near forest that surrounded the front of the house. From the road all that was visible was the top of a white roof and a few windows on the side of the house. It sat high due to the hill it was on and it gave the impression that it was a tall, multi-floor structure. But instead of a huge mansion, sitting in front of Rachel was a lovely one story white ranch that she knew was approximately 3,500 square feet of living space. That amount of space she could handle solo with no problems.

"Nice house," she called as she stepped out of the her car, leaving it in the driveway and watching as Noah exited one of the three garages tapping a button on his keys to lower the door behind him as he went. He had mentioned he also had an SUV and she briefly wondered what the other garage housed.

"Thanks. Other then the Porsche and my school loans it's pretty much the only thing I've spent any real significant money on. I didn't want to go too big since it's only me here; and there were probably better choices, but the view is fucking boss."

Rachel let out a laugh at the excited tone his voice had taken on, privately agreeing with his statement as she had seen the real estate information on the property, and followed him up the short walkway to the front door of the house.

She knew he had purchased the house just about two years earlier and that it was a two winged ranch; three bedrooms all with ensuite bathrooms in one wing and the 'main' wing of the home featuring a mostly open floor plan, the kitchen and dining room were slightly separated from the split level living room, and a half bath for convenience of guests who were not staying in the home. Unfortunately, you could only get so much information from a real estate package, despite the presence of pictures, so Rachel wasn't sure what to expect when she walked inside.

"I thought you weren't married," she joked when they walked through the all glass, french style, front door and into a pristintely decorated living area done entirely in white and black with any color being brought into the room through the art on the walls. She noticed a set of dark wood french doors, that perfectly matched the floors, at each end of the room and in front of her and to the right a few feet were two large cut out doorways that were three steps up and appeared, from what she could see, to lead into the rest of the house.

"I'm not," he replied smirking at her. "But Kurt sort of kicked me out of my house after I'd been here for three months. Said he wanted to give me a false sense of security before he made me move in with Blaine for two weeks while he re-did the place. Apparently, college dorm room chic didn't impress him."

"You had a milk crate coffee table didn't you?" she asked, laughing as she pictured it and watching as he hung his keys next to the front door after keying in a series of numbers on the security pad.

"And tapestry's hanging on the walls interspersed with bikini model posters," Noah explained, his tone telling Rachel he wasn't completely joking, pointing around to various points of the room.

"Classy," she shot back dryly.

"I try, really I do," he responded and then nodded towards the rest of the house. "Come on, I'll show you why I bought this place and then we'll get your stuff from the car."

Rachel followed him across the rectangular room that stretched across the front of the house and up that small set of stairs to enter the second living room. This one was decorated in the same color scheme as the front room, though she noted it seemed much more formal, and included a fireplace and and three sets of all glass french doors that stretched the back wall of the room and led into the yard.

"Did you really have to buy a house with so much glass? I thought you said you liked your privacy?"

"You're kidding right?" Noah asked her laughing. "Who the hell can even see into my house from back here? The only place anyone can even really approach is from the front, that's what the gate and trees are for. Follow me."

Rachel sighed, pushing her own ingrained paranoia down, and did as she was told by following him through the middle set of doors and out onto the patio. The red brick patio stretched a few feet, encompassing just enough space for a table, chairs and a fairly extensive grill set up. The rest of the yard was a perfectly manicured lawn that sloped down a slight hill and minimal desert style bushes and trees framing the property line. She took in the reasonably large pool that sat near the edge of the property, lower then the house due to the hill and nodded. This would be doable; even if she had to upgrade his security system.

"Rachel," she heard Noah's voice softly in her ear and jumped. "Welcome back. You're being far too analytical right now."

"I'm trying to figure out how to protect your house and by extension you."

"And I appreciate that; but, you're staring at the property like it's going to bite you. Instead, why don't you take just one minute, breathe and look out."

Rolling her eyes slightly Rachel did what he asked and picked her head up to look around over the foliage that framed his property; her breath caught. Now she understood what he said about why he wound up buying the house.

In front of Rachel was one of the most stunning views she had ever seen on a residential property. The house faced west and since sunset was approaching the colors she was seeing were indescribable. Also, the angle of the house gave the view, without the sight of the city itself to distract. Instead of buildings (and Rachel had been in the Hills before, just usually closer to the city center) like she was used to Rachel was staring at mountains.

"Wow."

"Told ya," he responded. "It was totally worth the two million."

"Two...million? Shit, maybe I should have stuck with acting."

"On that note," Noah interjected. "Let's go get your stuff and I'll start dinner and you can tell me all about it while I cook."

"Can I get a full tour of the house first? I need to get my bearings in place before I'm exhausted. It's been a long day."

"Oh, yea, okay we can do that too," he muttered and seemed to think for a second. "We'll finish this side of the house, go get your stuff and you can see what Kurt calls the 'residential wing'. Which is just a fancy way of saying, that's where all the bedrooms are."

"I figured as much," she replied with a light laugh and followed him back into the living room, making sure to close and lock the doors behind her while choosing to ignore his eye roll at the action. "Lead on MacDuff."

"Right, anyway, the kitchen's through there," he pointed to their right, now that they were facing the front of the house. Rachel poked her head into the room to see an all white kitchen that was decked out in things she was fairly certain would only be found in a restaurant. "Kurt went a little nuts in here too. He found out I could actually cook, said that was a miracle in and of itself, and went a little crazy."

"It's nice," she assured him, noticing the small table that would seat four in the corner.

"Yea, he almost didn't put a table but I told him there was no way in hell I was using the dining room unless I absolutely had to once I saw the monstrosity of a table he put in there. I mean, when the hell am I ever going to want to feed sixteen people in my house? That's what restaurants are for."

Rachel chuckled and followed him back across the formal living room to poke her head around another corner for a glance at the apparently formal dining room. Privately she had to admit he was right; the room was a bit over the top and screamed opulence. While it went with the rest of the house's decor, even the formal living room seemed to mesh with what she had seen of Noah so far. The dining room just didn't.

"Ready for the fun rooms?"

"I thought we were saving the bedrooms for last?"

The fact that he almost seemed to blush at her comment had Rachel bottling up her laughter and proved he was still stuck on thirteen year old prissy Rachel Berry somewhere in his mind. Rather then answering her he silently led the way through the living room and down the steps into the front room before heading towards the set of doors she had noticed on their left when they walked in. Sliding them open Rachel was surprised to find themselves in a huge room that was completely devoid of the white and black color scheme that fell over the rest of the property.

Instead, she was standing in a very dark red and wood room that held a pool table, a bar, book shelves, ridiculously comfortable looking couches and chairs and an entertainment system that was almost as impressive as the screening room she had seen in the White House.

"Okay, I thought you said your car, the house and your loans were your biggest expenditures?"

"Oh, yea, well, I count this as work related," he replied and smirked. "This is my man cave. Roar."

"Roar?"

"Uh-huh," he agreed. "Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Oh that I can roll my eyes at," she shot back. "I'm impressed Kurt managed to style a man cave so, well, man-cavey."

"Nah," he disagreed. "I told him I wanted a study that could double as a screening room and he pulled it off. Blaine warned me against using the term 'man cave' around him 'cause I might have wound up with a strip club look. Which, wouldn't completely suck now that I think about it."

"Oy vey," Rachel muttered, laughing over the whimsical tone his voice had adopted on that last thought.

"Right, let's get your stuff," he finally spoke, shaking his head as though to clear his thoughts and ushered her out of the room and then out the front door.

* * *

><p>A half hour later Rachel had comfortably unpacked and was heading back into the main part of the house from the 'residential wing', which was located behind the other set of wooden french doors on the other side of the front room. The 'wing' was really just a wide hallway that had a series of french doorways in it - one bedroom on each side of the hallway with the master bedroom at the very end of the 'wing', one set that hid the washer and dryer and a one set that hid a large walk in linen and storage closet.<p>

Her room was done in shades of green to off set the white and the other guest bedroom had been done in chromatic greys and white. Noah hadn't offered a viewing of his own room, and having remembered what he said about his privacy Rachel hadn't asked. She'd give it a few days before approaching the subject if he didn't offer soon.

Not that she wanted him to offer to show her his bedroom or anything; Rachel was a professional after all.

She carefully ignored her inner voice calling her a liar. Because once she had been left alone in the bedroom that was to be hers for the time being she had finally been allowed to process a grown up Noah Puckerman. The rest of the day had been spent constantly keeping track of their surroundings, looking for anyone that was paying too much attention to him and cataloging the history he was giving her while looking for anything suspicious in his past that could crop up now; she hadn't been able to fully register the fact that she was falling into a comfortable flirtatious banter with a man who had been placed on People Magazine's Most Beautiful list for the last four years. Ironically, it wasn't even his looks that had her in knots over the situation; the looks she had gotten used to over the years of having seen him in movies and magazines. No, the problem was that this was an adult version of the boy who had tried to get her to eat worms when they were seven. This was the same boy who had dared her, at five, to climb to the top of the tree in his backyard and then given her a lollipop when she did. This was the same boy who had been her first kiss when she was twelve.

And what really bothered her was knowing that if it was any other circumstances bringing them back together as mature adults Rachel would have been turning on the charm to full power and been working on a way to get him out to dinner and into bed. Instead, she had to sleep down the hall from him and make sure some psychopath didn't get into his house or harm him until the LAPD could figure out who said psychopath was.

In short, she was fucked.

This was reinforced when she entered the kitchen to see Noah standing there chopping up vegetables, obviously having changed since he was now dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top, and her first thought was that he deserved to be at the top of the Most Beautiful list.

"Hey," she greeted and walked around the center island counter top. "Can I help with anything?"

"No, I'm good," he replied and seemed distracted. "Hey, are you still a vegetarian?"

"Huh? You remember that? Wow. No, I'm not. But thanks for asking."

"So chicken is okay?"

"Chicken's fine. I try to avoid red meat for health reasons but I couldn't afford an all vegan diet in college since my father's had the brilliant idea that I should support myself and learn to be an adult."

"Ouch."

"It wasn't that bad. I lived in the dorms and later an apartment with some friends. Plus, DC's cuisine is very southern and mid-Atlantic. So it doesn't exactly lend itself well to vegan. Try telling someone you're vegan when they're planning on having crabs for dinner."

"Oooooo," Noah practically moaned. "I filmed in Baltimore a few years ago. Crabs are all you need to say anymore and I'm ready to salivate. Well, providing you're talking about food."

Rachel laughed at took a seat at the table to watch him work, and possibly avoid disclosing her entire life story.

"You want a beer? Wine? Anything?" he asked a few seconds later, popping his head out of the fridge.

"Got any soda? I shouldn't be drinking since I'm technically working."

"You're at my house."

"Your stalker has been here."

"Point," he muttered and pulled out a can of coke. "This okay?"

"That's fine. Thanks," she accepted the beverage and popped the top of the can before taking a sip. "So what are you making?"

"Chicken with vegetables in terriyaki sauce. It's getting late so I wanted to do something simple."

"So, you're a successful actor with a gorgeous house and you can cook."

"You sound like my mother and if your next question is when I'm going to find a nice Jewish girl to marry I'm going to throw raw chicken at you," he interrupted.

"Hey! I remember your Mom. She was nice."

"To you," Noah muttered. "Enough about me," he added. "Get talking shorty."

"Do I need to remind you about the gun?"

"The gun that I don't currently see on your person," he interjected and gestured up and down at her with the knife he was using to cut up the vegetables.

Rachel chuckled and casually pulled up the leg of the yoga pants she had changed into, laughing louder when he cursed upon spotting her small ankle holster.

"I'm pretty much always armed Noah. I brought a lock box for my Sig; but this is easier to wear around the house and I'll be keeping it in my nightstand while I sleep."

"So no sneaking into your room for a panty-raid. Got it."

"I should shoot you for reminding me about that."

"I was ten!"

"I was mortified!"

They both stared at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the memories and Rachel couldn't help but smile at the thought of one of the few friends she had when she lived in Ohio. They had always had a weird dynamic. On one hand she could probably call him her first best friend. But on the other hand they never been exceptionally close the way some friends were. They never called each other to specifically hang out, Noah never introduced her to anyone from his public school and vice versa with Rachel and her private school; but, whenever Noah's mother and Rachel's fathers got together (at least two times a week not counting Saturday's at Temple) the kids were dragged along and had been since they were in diapers.

Needless to say two bored kids could get into some interesting situations when there weren't any 'reputations' to protect.

"I'm still waiting Rach," Noah prompted and raised an eyebrow while Rachel exhaled loudly. "Dinner's gonna take a little while so you might as well entertain me."

"Fine," she grumbled and quickly ordered her thoughts even though she knew that the first part of her story could be completely candid as opposed to the last few years wherein she'd need to edit significantly.

A glance at Noah showed that he was waiting, albeit not very patiently, for her to start talking so with a deep breath she began, "The whole moving thing was actually unexpected but when my Dad got that job offer he wasn't about to turn it down."

"Actually, stop there for a second," he interrupted. "What job offer did your Dad get? All my Mom said was that it was political."

Rachel chuckled at the explanation given to his thirteen year old self and explained, "A friend of his from college got elected as a senator from Indiana and Dad was offered the spot of Chief of Staff for him. Dad never wanted to run for office himself; but he enjoyed politics. Senator Jennings is now Secretary of State and Dad still works for him; he's brought Dad with him with every move he's made since they started working together."

"Huh. Cool I guess."

"Yea I guess," Rachel muttered. "Dad's been trying to insert himself in my career since though."

"How so?"

"You heard a vague outline of my career right? I know what's in my file with Athena."

"Yea?"

"It took me just about two years to actually get onto a Secret Service detail because it took me almost a year to get accepted to FLETC."

"Fletcey?"

Rachel laughed at the way he sounded the acronym out and explained, "Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. Basically it's a ten week program for college graduates to attend to join any federal law enforcement agency except for the FBI or the CIA. Bureau agents train at Quantico. Spooks train at The Farm."

"Oh," Noah mumbled, still looking slightly confused but Rachel brushed it off as she didn't feel like getting into the intricacies of the various agencies. "I haven't done any political thrillers so, I can admit I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"That's not the important part, so it's okay. Anyway, I was lucky to get hired by the Department of the Treasury right out of college. Then, since the Secret Service used to be part of them, once I graduated, top of my class by the way, from FLETC the Secret Service already knew who I was and snapped me up."

"So how did your Dad interfere?"

"He didn't want me getting shot at. Once I had decided to go to psychology route in college I think my fathers were expecting me to go to law school like they did. They were a little shocked when I told them, point blank, I wanted to carry a gun and if I was going to be a cop of any type I was going to be the most elite possible. So there I am my senior year of college and magically there's no room in the Metro or Baltimore PD academy's; I was going to apply to get a few years under my belt first. When I found that out I decided to go straight for FLETC and I find out somehow there's no room in their upcoming class either. What there was available was slots waiting for me at Harvard and Georgetown in their Law Schools. One of which is the alma mater of both my father's and the Senator that my Dad works for and the other is the school my Daddy teaches at. I figured out what was up really quickly."

"That sucks," Noah agreed and Rachel just shrugged to tell him she was over it.

"It was years ago. They've accepted things since then. Sort of. Last year, what with the whole getting shot thing, was filled with 'I told you so's' until I was turning blue."

"So, now that we understand all politicians kind of suck. What happened when you first got to DC?"

"Well, Dad was working for Senator Jennings and Daddy had gotten a position at Georgetown teaching. For some reason we actually moved into the District; a lot of my friends lived in Arlington, Virginia because it was right over the Potomac and was a nice residential area. Instead my Dad's got a nice townhouse in Georgetown. I was quickly enrolled in a private school for a few reasons. The most obvious one being that DC is not a very safe city even in its more affluent areas, which I always found ironic considering it's our nation's capitol. So they didn't want me in a public school. The other reason being that basically all the kids whose parents worked high up in the Congress and Senate sent their kids there. We also had a lot of kids who were the children of high ranking players in the alphabet soup agencies. My Dad's considered it the safest place I could go to school."

"How safe are we talking? 'Cause, those ritzy private schools are usually drug havens."

"Oh believe me, we had our usual high school BS. But we also had kids with bodyguards in class. It was...interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Yea. My eyes were opened to this entire other world very quickly. I had always only surrounded myself with Broadway stuff and I had never really had any friends and suddenly I had friends and their interests ran a lot different then mine. And to be honest, I wanted to keep those friends." She scowled as Noah chuckled at her comment; she didn't need the reminder that she had been more then a little annoying in her early teens. "Now don't get me wrong, I joined our Drama Department and I got really involved in it and no one was going to put me off my dreams; but, I realized by my Junior Year that all of my friends could care less about theatre. They all supported me and went to my shows and loved my voice; but they all played sports or were on the newspaper, among other things. It wasn't until I fully realized that fact that I was able to take a look at the kids were involved in theatre with me."

She glanced up and realized Noah was studying her as he continued to cut things up for dinner. She hated remembering how oblivious she had been when she was younger, but she was going to have to fess up to that short term stupidity.

"Once I looked at them closely I realized, that despite the fact I kept insisting they were my friends for those first two years of high school, they were more apt to try and shove me off of a stage then ever actually want to be around me. And by that point I had mellowed significantly, thanks to my real friends and kickboxing, so it had nothing to do with my personality it was just that venomous dog eat dog mentality of the theatre."

She glanced up and noticed Noah's shocked expression at her words and raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever it was obvious he wanted to say. She didn't have to wait long.

"I never experienced anything like that. Did you go to school with insane asylum recruits? And kickboxing?"

"You went to High School in Lima and judging by where you are now you were probably the most talented person at McKinley. I'm not sure what college theatre is like, but high school theatre in a school that's full of spoiled, rich kids? Hell on earth. The kickboxing was a way to relieve stress. I took kickboxing, karate and judo from my friend Josh's dad. He was a retired marine."

"Damn," Noah muttered and tossed a handful of chicken into a wok.

"So anyway, I stuck it out. Dad said my stubborn nature wouldn't let me give up because I had those dreams for so damn long. And even though I never had the lead, my friends kept me going 'cause they reminded me how good I was."

"Sounds like you had some really great friends."

"I did," Rachel agreed with a bright smile. "I still keep in touch with a few of them. We were a small group and really varied in our intrests but we clicked. We were all kind of outsiders in what our cliques were supposed to be. It was a nice, comfortable high school experience overall. I wasn't what would be considered popular, but I was far from a loser."

She looked up to see Noah nodding along as he tossed the food around in the wok and inhaled appreciatively at the smells filling the kitchen. He wasn't kidding when he said he could cook.

"So?" he asked, prompting her along.

"So it was high school. I don't really know what you expect me to say," she added, shrugging. "Things didn't really change for me until my senior year. My best friend Betsy's Dad was an SAC with the FBI based out of the Hoover Building and somehow over those four years of school I started absorbing things and my senior year I took a look around my room and realized that while I was still immersed in Broadway and the theatre I had also accumulated a lot of things on psychology and true crime. It's like my interests had changed without me realizing it. Now Betsy was a year older then me and was attending Georgetown that year; she asked me to go to a lecture with her that a forensic psychologist from the Behavioral Analysis Unit down in Quantico was giving on campus and I, of course, said yes since she was my best friend. I don't know what else to say other then it was amazing," she paused and ordered her own thoughts, thinking back on that one moment where she suddenly thought she might have found something else that could make her happy without stressing her out on a constant basis. Listening as that man talked about the psychology behind crime and why people commit atrocoties and the things he had seen over the years. However, still to this day, the one thing that stuck out in his mind was how he explained the feeling of knowing you had saved countless lives every time you put one of those psychopaths behind bars.

"Amazing?"

"Huh? Oh, well, I mean...I had theoretically been studying psychology for years. You're an actor, you understand. Both professions are essentially a study of the human condition. Different emotions and how they effect a person; whether that person be real or an imagined character that you're supposed to portray. Now, I'll be the first to admit that it's a little weird that I became fascinated by what boils down to studying broken brains but criminal psychology is far more intense then anything else in the field. Figuring out why someone who seems so normal could turn around and chop up their neighbor and bury them in the yard just fascinates me more then figuring out why someone wants to wash their hands eight times a day."

"You're a little twisted you know that?"

"Yep," Rachel agreed and shot him a slightly maniacal grin on purpose. "College was an easy decision. I went to Georgetown where I initially declared a major in Visual and Performing Arts with a minor in psych. I thought I'd minor in it and get it out of my system. And Georgetown was pretty much the only choice for a school since my father's got a significantly lowered tuition because I was the child of a faculty member. By November I realized that every friend I had was from my psychology or Gen Ed classes. Again, I just couldn't click with the theatre kids, even at the introductory level where there wasn't any real competition yet. So during my winter break I did a lot of soul searching and research. That part of me never changed, I couldn't do something without knowing all the pros and cons. I talked to Betsy's Dad and my own father's and finally my Daddy told me something that made me change to a dual major in Psychology and Mathematics without even a hint of regret."

"What'd he say to you?" Noah asked, looking far more interested in what she was saying then the food he was putting onto plates.

"He sat me down and said, 'Rachel, your Dad and I will be proud of you no matter what you do in your life. What you need to think about is what really makes you happy. Don't base it off of what made you happy when you were six or even when you were sixteen. Dreams change and that isn't a bad thing.' When he said that I knew what I had to do."

"Good for you," he told her seriously, setting a plate down in front of her and then taking the chair across the table. "No one should be miserable their entire life."

"I don't think I would have been miserable," she disagreed quickly. "I just think I would have had an ulcer before I turned twenty-five."

"Well, I don't think anyone should have that either. But I gotta ask, why Math?"

"Psychology and criminal behavior focuses heavily on statistics. I was always good at Math and the logic in Mathematics helps immensely now." She laughed at how he wrinkled his nose as she explained and smiled at him softly, "You still hate Math huh?"

"I'm a very successful actor. Don't think I didn't go to my ten year reunion and point out that I have yet to need algebra to my high school math teacher. Don't think just cause I fed you that you are done talking either."

Rachel groaned, took a bite and immediately moaned, "This is really good."

"You're welcome. Nice sound too."

"Pig," she muttered after she had swallowed. "Anyway, fast forward to college graduation and the pain in the ass of trying to get into law enforcement. I finally sucked it up and took the offer to be a cog in the wheel at the Department of the Treasury while I was working on my master's part-time. To elaborate on what I got into earlier, it took nine months for me to get a slot in a FLETC class. I graduated at the top of my class and thankfully managed to get into the Secret Service. For my probie year I just worked where I was needed. I protected visiting dignitaries, worked on counterfeiting cases and things like that. It gave me more time to finish up my masters though so that's good. I was afraid it'd take me three years instead of two; despite the extra credits I had taken during undergrad."

"And after those two years you were assigned to the first daughter?"

"Yep. I have never been more thankful then when that kid went to Northwestern either. They almost relocated me to Chicago but I begged and pleaded and for once my Dad's pull in Washington didn't annoy me that much."

Noah laughed when she added that last part and mockingly shook a finger at her while she blushed, "Bad girl."

"Hey. It got me onto the First Lady's detail, which was a hell of a lot more traveling but it was also a hell of a lot more interesting. There are only so many times one can listen to a teenage girl wax lyrical about the boy who was your first kiss," she shot at him and smirked when he almost choked on his dinner.

"Watch it there Rach. You're supposed to be protecting me. Not killing me yourself."

"Sorry. I told you she had a crush on you."

"A crush on me is one thing; waxing lyrical or whatever the hell you said is another."

"She was fifteen when I met her, I wasn't that surprised by the behavior. Didn't mean it wasn't annoying. So yea, first lady for two years and finally, finally I got promoted to POTUS. I literally can not tell you anything other then that. Then last year I took a slug in the shoulder shoving him into the car and spent the last six months recovering, filing a leave of absence to finish my Ph.D. and registering with Athena so I could have some income while I did so."

"So that's it huh? That's Rachel Berry in a brief history lesson?"

"That's me," she agreed. "This is really good Noah."

"You said that already," he replied with a slightly evil smirk. "But I noticed you left something out in your little description."

"Oh?" she questioned, cursing internally and knowing immediately what he was getting at.

"Don't 'Oh' me, Ms. Adler. See, I'm being protected by Rachel Adler, not Rachel Berry. So spill, what's the deal with the name change?"

"Would you accept, the stupidest mistake I ever made in my life, as an answer?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "Alright, alright, quick and dirty 'cause the less I have to think about it the better. I met Ethan Adler my junior year of high school and completely fell in love with him. He was the captain of the soccer and baseball teams."

"HA!" Noah interrupted. "I knew that'd be your type."

"Would you let me finish? Cause I'm only going over this once."

"Sorry," he mumbled looking slightly sheepish; though she had a feeling it was more to do with being nervous over his chances of finding out more information on her then anything else.

"We dated on and off through our last two years of high school. I wouldn't have kept getting back together with him but whenever we broke up it was mutual and amicable. He was actually a really good boyfriend and while I know most girls will say that, it's not an excuse. I just figured that we weren't ready for each other yet. We did the same thing throughout college, mostly because he went to Stanford and the distance sucked. Every single break we were totally happy, if a little casual, together and as we got older things were really good. Our senior year of college we didn't bother breaking up and decided we were absolutely together despite the long distance. We got married the summer after we graduated college because I had just started my job and he was going to be starting at Georgetown Law that August. I divorced his ass and took him for everything he was worth when we were twenty-six because I found out he had been cheating on me since our senior year of college. He claimed it was because I loved my job more then him and that I was never there for him; which I am happy to say is the biggest load of bullshit ever."

"Good for you," Noah almost growled and Rachel was surprised to see that he actually looked pissed. "Want me to kill him?"

"No that's okay Noah. No bloodshed necessary. Mostly because he was right, I did love my job more then him. The bullshit was that I was never there for him. I was married to him while I was on the first daughter's detail; I never left DC."

"So why the hell is your last name still Adler?"

"That's the part that sucks. I had already gotten my Master's under Adler and been published enough times that a name change would have been more frustrating then it was worth. Also, I have to admit, not having the last name Berry causes me to get less looks implying I got my job through nepotism."

"So you dating anyone now?" he asked in a tone so curious that Rachel had to remind herself of the rules. He could be as curious as he wanted; she could not reciprocate.

"Nope. I've dated a little but in the long run nothing's panned out. I've got some trust issues now and most guys don't like a girlfriend who has accepted the fact that she might have to give her life for someone. Working in the Secret Service is different then just being a cop. They'd prefer us not to get killed; but if it comes down to me or whomever I've been assigned to? My ass best be in between that bullet and my charge."

"Jesus," he muttered and looked shocked. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Don't throw yourself between any bullets and me okay?"

"Noah," Rachel groaned out the word in frustration. "I was hired for a reason."

"No! You do not get yourself killed on this. This woman or whoever isn't that nuts."

"The dead dog on your stoop tells me different."

"She thinks she loves me. She doesn't want to hurt me."

"She will, eventually. Once that shred of reality kicks in and she realizes that she's never going to have you? Then she'll want to hurt you so that no one else can have you instead. And if it comes down to it I will protect you with my life. Even more so because it's you."

"What do I have to do with anything? I don't want that on my conscience Rach," he replied in a painfully serious tone.

"Well, let's put it this way; the last guy I took a bullet for? I didn't even vote for him and not for one second did I hesitate. If it was you? I'd probably be there before the shot was fired."

"That makes no sense."

"It wouldn't to you. It's kind of something those of us who consider this type of job our calling say. You tend to move faster the more you care about the person who's the target. It's why parents can lift cars off of children."

"Adrenaline response."

"Yea."

"We haven't seen each other in years Rachel.

Rachel laughed a bit sadly at his words and shrugged, "Years maybe. But you're the first person I could have called a best friend Noah. And to be honest, I don't want to be the one to tell Deborah Puckerman that her baby boy is dead 'cause I didn't move fast enough."

"Yea, well, I don't want to be the one to tell Deborah Puckerman that Rachel Berry can't give her Jewish grandchildren 'cause she took a bullet for me. Believe me, that shit comes up once every two or three years."

That time it was her turn to choke on her dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** There's Rachel's side of what she's been up to since she was in Lima. I hope that answered any questions anyone had. And I'm sorry if anyone was disappointed that her career path changed for such an undramatic reason. Truth is, sometimes dreams just change as you grow older and experience what you thought you wanted more.

I'm trying not to let this get lengthy - mostly 'cause I've got 2 other multi-chaps going. I hope everyone liked this.


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